


Going Once, Going Twice!

by Ninja_Librarian



Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [7]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Bachelor Auction, Because not all relationships and characters are listed..., Crime-free story for once!, Drake insists he's not jealous, Drama!, F/F, F/M, For Charity!, He's super jealous, M/M, Multi, There be surprises inside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: As part of a benefit for the Dimes for Ducklings charity, Scrooge McDuck asks Darkwing Duck, Gizmoduck and Launchpad to partake in a bachelor auction. They agree, all believing that it will be an easy night of fun for a good cause.However, this isn't the laid-back night they anticipate. Emotions are high, the kids are scheming, and a familiar face makes a return in the most unexpected way possible.One way or another, it will be a night to remember.
Relationships: Daisy Duck/Donald Duck, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Zan Owlson/OFC
Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478648
Comments: 64
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

Drake felt like he had been called to the principal’s office as he twiddled his thumbs in the passenger seat of the limo that Launchpad drove on their way to the Money Bin. Despite also having received the same ominous message to report to Scrooge’s office, Launchpad didn’t seem at all perturbed.

“Uh, did Mr. McDuck give you any hint as to why he called us?” Drake asked.

“Nope!” Launchpad responded cheerfully. “Maybe he’s got new weapons for you. Ooh! Or a mystery that only Darkwing Duck can solve!”

Drake opened his mouth to throw out his own suggestions when he winced as Launchpad crashed into the wall of the Money Bin’s garage. Judging by the cracks in the wall and knowing his boyfriend’s propensity to crash into things, Drake suspected this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Nevertheless, Launchpad put the limo into park and climbed out, Drake behind him as they went to the elevator. The elevator dinged open and there was a familiar face already inside.

“Oh, hey guys!” Fenton said cheerfully as Drake and Launchpad entered the elevator. “What floor?”

“Top,” Drake answered, noticing that the button for Scrooge’s office was already lit. “You’re going to see Mr. McDuck too?”

“Yeah, Mr. McDuck said he needed to see me. In his office. Immediately.” Fenton said, looking like he was trying to keep calm and failing. He nervously tilted his head towards Drake and said, “Uh, is that code for ‘you’re fired’?”

“I hope not, because he told me and Launchpad the same thing,” Drake said, now feeling even more uneasy as the elevator dinged open again.

“Mr. McDuck is waiting for you,” the secretary said without even looking up from her typing. “He said to send you three on in.”

“Thanks, Lucy,” Launchpad said.

“Whatever,” Lucy responded, not looking up.

Drake and Fenton shared a nervous glance between each other and the doorknob, but before either of them could silently dare the other to open the door and seal their fate, Launchpad went ahead and threw the door open, striding in with a “Hey, Mr. McD!”

“Close the door,” Scrooge McDuck said cryptically, his back to them. “And take a seat.”

Drake gulped as Fenton closed the door, then they went to take a chair in front of Scrooge’s desk.

“Gentlemen,” Scrooge said, still not turning around in his chair. “I have a need of your services.”

“As… heroes of Duckburg?” Drake asked, glancing over at Fenton and Launchpad.

“Yes, in fact, this may be the most dangerous task you have ever faced in your stints as Gizmoduck, Darkwing Duck and Pilot. It’ll thrust you into a nest of vipers, into claws more vicious than any rabid animal’s, chewed upon by teeth sharper than any sharks!”

“Holy smokes,” Fenton breathed. “We’re going to fight a Chimera.”

“Er, no. Not exactly…”

Scrooge turned his chair around then, his fingers steeped in front of his beak as he said, “I want you lads to be Bachelors Numbers One, Two, and Three.”

******

“A bachelor auction?” Gosalyn said as Drake put spaghetti on her plate.

“Yeah, it benefits Mr. McD’s Dimes for Ducklings charity,” Launchpad explained as he brought over a pitcher of water and started filling the glasses on the table.

“So… let me get this straight,” Gosalyn said, resting her elbows on the table. “Strange women who don’t even know you are going to come and eat a fancy dinner and compete to pay money so that they can go on dates with you?”

“Elbows off the table,” Drake told her. “And yes.”

“I’m not eating yet, so it doesn’t count,” Gosalyn argued. “But you two are already dating. Each other. So why would you even _want_ to go on these dates?”

“Well, one: it is for a good cause,” Drake said as he took a seat. “Two: technically, I am dating Launchpad but Darkwing Duck—who is going to be a bachelor that night, not Drake Mallard—is single. Three: the bachelors are only obliged to go on one date with the winning bidder.”

Gosalyn frowned and grabbed her fork, starting to twist noodles onto the tines. “But won’t you two get jealous of the winning bidders? You know, the women who get to go on dates with your boyfriend?”

“Gosalyn, Gosalyn, Gosalyn,” Drake chuckled. “We are mature grown-ups. We won’t get jealous, when we know exactly what we each signed up for. It’s fun for a good cause. Everything will be fine.”

Gosalyn didn’t look convinced and Launchpad added, “Hey, Mr. McD is having Webby and Louie help out backstage. Huey is going to be the auctioneer to get a Junior Woodchuck badge, and Dewey is the MC. Dewey’s actually looking for a co-host to help him introduce the bachelors. You interested?”

Gosalyn nodded eagerly, perking up at the thought. “Sure!”

“Perfect,” Drake declared. “Now I don’t have to find a sitter for you, and you can see for yourself that everything is going to be absolutely fine.”

Gosalyn narrowed her eyes slightly at her father, putting another bite of spaghetti in her mouth.

Somehow, she had a feeling that the presence of Darkwing Duck in any social situation meant that everything was not going to be absolutely fine.

*****

“Fenton, are you sure that bachelor auction thing is a good idea?” Huey asked, his legs swinging where he sat on the lab counter.

“Why would it be a bad thing?” Fenton asked where he sat on the floor, the chest piece of his armor in his lap, tools spread out around him.

“It’s just, well, the last time you went on a date it didn’t go great.” Webby said where she sat across from Fenton, passing him a tool.

“The lab got trashed.” Gyro said flatly from across the room where he was working on his own project.

“Mark Beaks broke in and stole the kids,” Manny clopped.

“And Gandra crushed your heart.” Huey added.

Fenton huffed and narrowed his eyes at Huey. “Thank you, Huey, I totally had forgotten how the first girl who I thought liked me for who I am and was able to bond with over a mutual love for science tricked me to get something out of my alter-ego, utterly betraying me and then leaving without a word and hasn’t been seen since.”

“You said it, not me,” Huey responded defensively.

Fenton accepted a pair of needle-nose pliers from Webby and turned his attention back to the Gizmoduck armor. “That what makes this perfect,” He explained. “It’s one date. No strings attached. And as Gizmoduck. I don’t have to worry about whether or not she likes me for who I really am, because it’s all about Gizmoduck and I’ll only be Gizmoduck. Meanwhile, it’s a great palate cleanser for Fenton to get back into the dating scene. Like I said, it’s perfect.”

“The problem,” Manny clopped. “Lies in the fact that you are simultaneously Gizmoduck and not Fenton, and Fenton and not Gizmoduck.”

Fenton, Huey and Webby stared at him in confusion.

Gyro sighed and glanced up from his project, pushing back his glasses. “What he means is, you have the potential to run into a problem, and that problem is that Fenton and Gizmoduck are two halves of a whole idiot.”

“Gee, thank you so much for the support there, Dr. Gearloose,” Fenton said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Gyro said, either not catching the sarcasm or ignoring it. “The point is, whoever wins a date with Gizmoduck might not like Fenton, but you are ultimately always Fenton even when you’re Gizmoduck.”

“And there wouldn’t be a Gizmoduck without that Fenton underneath!” Huey declared, putting a raised finger in the air.

“Right,” Gyro said, though looked annoyed at the interruption. “Therefore, there is a chance that you could develop romantic feelings towards this person as Fenton, but by being Gizmoduck you run the risk of never having a chance to build a relationship outside of the armor.”

Fenton frowned. “It’s not like I haven’t encountered women who love Gizmoduck but wouldn’t give Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera the time of day. I’m used to it. Trust me, there is no one who could possibly come to this bachelor auction that can hurt me.”

*****

“Whoa,” The kids said together with wide eyes as they looked around the large hotel ballroom that was already being set up for the next evening’s event.

“Everything looks amazing!” Webby exclaimed, spinning in circles.

“Hey guys!” Gosalyn called as she ran over, Launchpad behind her.

“Hey Gos!” Dewey said. “Ready for our sound check?”

“Yep!” Gosalyn said.

“Thanks for taking Gos home when they’re done, Donald,” Launchpad said, gently patting Gosalyn on the head.

“No problem,” Donald said with a wave of his hand.

“Well, I’ve got to get backstage with the other bachelors,” Launchpad said, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. “See you later, guys.”

“Bye, Launchpad!” The kids chorused.

“Alright, kids,” Donald said, clapping his hands together. “I’m gonna go find—”

“FRIEND DONALD!”

Donald’s expression dropped into one of exasperation, his entire body going slack as he released a sigh while bracing for impact.

Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby and Gosalyn watched as Donald was tackled by Storkules, their Greek god friend.

“Friend Donald, how the sun shines brightly on this magnificent day—it is as if the clouds have parted in your presence!” Storkules exclaimed as he hugged Donald tightly.

“Uh, you too, pal,” Donald said, totally slack in Storkules’ vice grip. While he looked annoyed to be in that position, he didn’t necessarily look uncomfortable. “Whatcha doin’ here, buddy?”

Storkules set Donald on the ground and put his fists on his hips majestically as he declared, “I have been given a great honor! For I am to be Bachelor Number Ten!”

“Dang. Two superheroes and a Greek god? Uncle Scrooge is going to make a mint at the auction tomorrow,” Louie commented.

“Everything okay out here?”

They all turned to see another familiar face, that of Daisy Duck, a reporter who was a friend of the kids and Darkwing Duck.

Daisy stepped out from behind the curtain and approached.

“I heard a crash?” She said, still sounding concerned.

“Storkules’ greetings are not for the faint of heart,” Donald explained. “Isn’t that right, big guy?”

“As it is the greeting I reserve for my dearest, noblest, best friend Donald with his lion’s heart, I would dare say it would not be fitting for anyone else,” Storkules declared. “For no one is as brave as he!”

“Is that so?” Daisy said, flickering her eyes towards Donald, who suddenly blushed.

“Heh heh,” Donald said, twiddling his fingers some, the toes of his left foot twisting back and forth behind him in a sheepish way. “Storkules tends to exaggerate. Uh, Daisy, this is Storkules. Storkules, this is Daisy Duck. She’s a reporter.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Daisy said, shaking Storkules’ hand.

“And it is an honor to meet you, fair Daisy,” Storkules said jovially. “Might I inquire how you know the Great Donald Duck?”

“I’m not that great,” Donald said quickly and dismissively as Daisy explained,

“We met in passing a few weeks ago. I was helping the kids here clear Darkwing Duck’s name when that dastardly imposter Negaduck was running amock.”

“I, uh, saw your piece on the news,” Donald said rapidly, his speech impediment thickening as a result, which in turn made his blush deepen. “Your exclusive with Chief Grizzlikoff. You were very impressive, Miss Daisy.”

“Thank you, Donald,” Daisy said, her face somehow brightening further.

“Did she… Did she understand him just now? Because I didn’t.” Webby asked the triplets in a low whisper. “Or is she being polite?”

Huey had been wondering the same thing and took a step closer to the adults. “So, Daisy, are you helping with the auction, too?”

“Oh, no, I’m the event’s special correspondent,” Daisy said proudly, lifting her chin as she beamed. “As part of that, I’m interviewing the bachelors, as well as your uncle and Zan Owlson.”

“That’s great!” Huey said. He suddenly grabbed hold of Storkules’ arm and said, “Uh, I just remembered, we have some very important auction related questions to talk about with Storkules. Will only take a moment. You two stay here and… talk. Be right back!”

With that, he dragged Storkules over to the side of the room, gesturing for his brothers, Webby and Gosalyn to follow.

“What important questions do you have, Hubert, Tamer of Winds?” Storkules asked.

Huey, however, shushed him and gestured with his head to where Donald and Daisy stood.

“Your friend is nice,” Daisy commented. “He thinks so highly of you.”

“Like I said, Storkules exaggerates,” Donald said, reaching up and taking his hat off his head, wringing it in his hands slightly with it close to his chest.

“And you sound like you’re being modest.” Daisy commented wryly.

“No. Just honest,” Donald insisted.

“You know, as a reporter, I like to investigate deeper. Find the truth,” Daisy said with a wry smile. “So I’d like to investigate these claims and decide for myself. Now, what’s your number?”

“Number?” Donald repeated, eyes going wide.

“Bachelor number,” Daisy said, batting her eyelashes some. “So that I can bid on you. You know. For the sake of my investigation.”

“Oh man, I can’t believe this is happening!” Huey said, his clenched fists in front of his beak, barely able to hide his glee.

“I, uh, I don’t have a number,” Donald sputtered out, his cheeks red. “I’m not in the auction.”

Daisy blinked, looking disappointed. “Oh. So you’re not here for the rehearsal?”

“Nope, just the ride for the kids,” Donald said, gesturing across the room weakly.

“Too bad,” Daisy said, sounding genuinely upset. “Well, then, how about I give you a number instead?” She pulled a business card out of her pocket and wrote something on the back, and passed it to Donald. “Maybe we could get coffee or something?”

Donald looked down at the business card. “I…”

“Yes,” Dewey whispered, his eyes widening.

“I…” Donald started again.

“Come on, come on, Uncle D, you got this,” Louie muttered, his fists clenched and bobbing slightly.

Donald sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“What!” Webby and Gosalyn yelled at the same time as the triplets reactions of, “No!” “Come on!” and “Boo!”.

Storkules just stood stunned. “Friend Donald,” He muttered. “Why?”

“Oh,” Daisy said, her eyes full of hurt and starting to get a bit shiny with tears, her cheeks turning pink. She looked to the side, reaching her hand up to fiddle with her earring. “I’m sorry, too. Uh, I need to get back to work… This event isn’t going to report itself, you know?”

“Yeah,” Donald said sadly.

Daisy quickly turned and hurried away.

Donald sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

He turned around, only to feel himself be grabbed by the shirt and forced down to Huey’s eye level, flames in his oldest nephew’s eyes.

“What,” Huey growled. “Was that?”

“Uncle Donald, you do know she wanted a date with you, right?” Dewey said as he and Louie both came to stand on either side of Huey.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Donald said, trying and failing to peel Huey’s fingers off of his shirt. “Huey, let go.”

“No!” Huey said. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Yeah, Uncle Donald, she really liked you, and you really liked her,” Louie added. “Besides, what would have going out for coffee have hurt? It wasn’t like you’d have to marry her if you drink lattes together.”

“I don’t go on dates, boys,” Donald said, finally freeing Huey’s fingers from around his shirt and standing upright. “I just don’t.”

“Do you not like girls?” Gosalyn asked bluntly. “Or do you not like anyone, regardless of gender?”

“I’m like your dad,” Donald admitted, moving his hand back and forth in a see-saw way. “Bi.”

“So why did you turn her down?” Huey demanded, stamping his foot in frustration. “Daisy was clearly flirting with you, and you liked it!”

“More importantly, you like her!” Dewey added.

Donald sighed and got down on one knee, putting a hand on Dewey’s shoulder and another on Louie’s. “Boys, my dating life isn’t any of your concerns.”

“Because it doesn’t exist,” Louie said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Precisely,” Donald said with a nod. “I’ve got bigger, more important priorities than getting a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend.”

“But art thou not lonely, Friend Donald?” Storkules asked. “Dost thou not crave companionship?”

Donald stared at him for a moment, then sighed again, standing up. “I’ve got my family. That’s all I need. Now. Let’s get your stuff done so we can get home in time for dinner. Mrs. B’s making lasagna, and I promised her we wouldn’t be late.”

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” The kids chimed.

Donald nodded. “I’m going to go find Manny. Stay right here.”

He left them and the triplets each had an expression of frustration and sadness.

“We’re the reason Uncle Donald’s dating life doesn’t exist, aren’t we?” Louie asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” Huey answered. “I think we are.”

“Come now,” Storkules said, kneeling down beside them and gathering them in his arms. “Friend Donald does not seem to resent or regret that. His heart has an abundance of love and companionship for his beloved nephews.”

“Except Uncle Donald has spent our whole lives taking care of us,” Dewey said. “And… he hasn’t really taken care of himself, or gone out of his way to find happiness for himself.”

“Your uncle does find great joy with you three,” Storkules said. “There is no mistaking it. Perhaps that does involve denying some other forms of happiness, though he does so readily and without a second thought.”

Huey suddenly stood upright. “Uncle Donald has spent our whole lives taking care of us,” He said. He grinned as he looked at his brothers. “Now perhaps it’s time we returned the favor.”

Louie and Dewey grinned.

“Whatever you’re thinking, we’re in.” Louie declared.

“Us, too!” Webby said, grabbing Gosalyn’s hand, the red-headed girl nodding.

“And me as well, my tiny hero friends!” Storkules said.

“Good,” Huey said. “But first we need to get one more person involved to make sure this actually works.”

“Who?” Dewey asked.

Huey smacked his fist into his open palm as he said determinedly, “Mom.”


	2. Chapter 2

Huey took the initiative and knocked on the door to Della’s room, Dewey and Louie standing behind him.

The door swung open, and the triplets were surprised to see their mother wearing a floor-length, shimmery dress of pale blue, the same color as her favorite scarf.

“Boys! Perfect timing!” She exclaimed, pulling open the door more. “Would one of you do me a favor and help me with this zipper?”

“Sure!” Dewey said, hopping onto Della’s bed, standing on it. Della came over and turned her back to him, giving Dewey access to the zipper.

“Never thought I’d see you in a dress, Mom,” Louie said as he flopped onto Della’s bed, lying on his stomach, supporting his chin with his hands. “I mean, you look good in it, but I didn’t take you for a dress-wearer.”

“I’m not, really,” Della admitted, even as she twirled in front of her mirror. “I could use my fingers to count how many times I’ve worn dresses since I was a really little kid, when your grandma used to dress me and Donald in these hideous matching sailor suits that she thought was utterly adorable. But I thought that since this is a fancy event, and I wore the same pair of pants for over a decade, what the heck? Life’s too short! Wear a fancy dress!”

“But the Bachelor Auction isn’t until tomorrow,” Dewey said, kicking his feet lightly where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, but Mrs. B told me to try it on in case it needed any alterations before tomorrow night,” Della explained, stepping over to her dresser, where a small jewelry box lay. “So, what brings you three up here?”

“Well, you know Uncle Donald the best out of anyone in the world, right?” Huey said, standing beside her.

“I would hope so. We’re twins,” Della said. She held up a necklace. “What do you boys think of this necklace?”

“I think you’d be better off with silver jewelry instead of gold,” Dewey told her.

“Ah, good call, Dewey,” Della said, nodding her head. She pulled out two earrings, one from two different pairs, and stepped back over to the mirror, comparing them. “So why are you asking about Donald? What do you three want to know? Because, let me tell you, I’ve got so many stories…”

“Are we the reason Uncle Donald doesn’t date?” Louie blurted out.

Della’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean Donald doesn’t date? He’s had, like, a dozen different partners ever since we hit puberty.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve never known him to date. Ever,” Huey explained, still pacing and gesturing wildly. “Not a girlfriend, not a boyfriend, not any sort of blind dates or anything. And today he turned down an offer to go get coffee—just go get some coffee!—with this really nice lady named Daisy, and she clearly likes Uncle Donald in the likes-like kind of way, and Uncle Donald seems to like her in the likes-like kind of way, but he still turned her down! And we know he really didn’t want to, because he sounded really sad about it! But he turned her down anyway!”

The boys watched their mother’s expression freeze then fall slightly in her reflection in the mirror. She crossed the short distance and sat on the edge of her bed, Dewey making room for her so that she could sit beside him and Louie.

“If that’s the case, you’re not the reason Donald doesn’t date,” She said softly. “Or, at least, not the entire reason. I’ve got a part in this, too.”

“How?” Dewey asked. “You’ve been on the moon for ten years!”

“And Donald felt that he needed to care for you boys on his own in my absence,” Della said, gently ruffling Dewey’s hair. “I know… well, I know the devotion to you boys involved some sacrifices on Donald’s part. At least, I’ve figured that out. He gave up his band with Jose and Panchito, his last semester of his accounting degree… I guess I didn’t take into consideration that he’d give up dating, too.”

“But you’re back now,” Huey pointed out. “And he hasn’t been our sole guardian for a while. Uncle Donald did consider going on a tour with his band, and he’s almost done with his degree. Things have finally settled down and he’s been able to hold down a job. So why not date, too?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sweetie,” Della sighed. She glanced down at her feet, her toes—both the orange flesh and the cold steel—poking out from the hem of her skirt. “Maybe I don’t know Donald as well as I thought…”

“Well, we do know one thing,” Louie said, sitting up. “And that is that Uncle Donald loves us. And that he really likes Daisy. And she really likes him. And because we love Uncle Donald, we want him to be happy. So we need to get him and Daisy together, even if it’s just for one date.”

Della looked up, smiling. “Tell me what you guys have in mind.”

*****

The night of the Dimes for Ducklings bachelor auction finally arrived, and the party was in full-swing.

The ballroom was nearly packed to capacity with the bachelors and bidders, along with several others who were there to support the charity and enjoy the fun. They all mingled together in the social hour leading up to the auction, which allowed the bidders to interact with the bachelors—clearly defined by the numbers and nametags they wore.

Outside the ballroom, Donald reached up to straighten his tie with his free hand, his other arm linked with Della’s.

“Why am I here again?” He asked.

“Because we’re showing our support of Uncle Scrooge! And I wanted my dearest, darling brother to be my plus one!” Della said as they stood in line in front of the table run by Mrs. Quackfaster, who was issuing out the signs for the bidders and handing them programs with a small bio on each of the bachelors for auction.

“Yeah, but why are you here then?” Donald asked.

Della rolled her eyes. “Uncle Scrooge asked me to come so that if a bidding needs a jump start, I place a bid to get the ball rolling.”

“So I need to be here, why?”

“Donald, come on, you hardly ever leave the house. And you need a study break! The boys are here and would love your support and—”

“Della,” Donald said, narrowing his eyes at his twin. “Did the boys ask you to convince me to come tonight?”

“No,” Della lied easily, with a smile on her face. “I just wanted to hang out with my bro. Why do you ask?”

Donald eyed her suspiciously. He was already regretting letting Della bully him into coming.

But Della didn’t know about Daisy. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell her about Daisy. What reason did he have for that?

Daisy. Who he was inevitably going to run into tonight…

It was going to be a long night.

*****

_This is going to be a long night,_ Gizmoduck thought as he waved farewell to two giggling bidders, who threw him flirty looks over their shoulders before looking at each other and giggling harder.

He hadn’t had a moment to himself, let alone a second to think, since he had arrived, immediately pounced upon by potential bidders as well as other auction guests who wanted to shake his hand, take selfies with him, thank him for his service, tell him how he could do better, and ask him to sign things.

Gizmoduck brought up his clock on his visor screen and suppressed a groan.

They were only fifteen minutes into the social hour.

“Well, well, you’re very popular tonight, aren’t you? But I think that is half the reason McDuck asked you to come tonight.”

Gizmoduck nearly jumped but then relaxed when he turned and saw the speaker, dressed in a sleek black cocktail dress, wearing her typical large gold earrings, and holding a glass of white wine, smirking at him.

“Good evening, Detective Cabrera,” He said. “And, er, yes.”

His mother’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she swirled her wineglass and said, “Let me know if you need some help holding back your fans.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that will be necessary,” Gizmoduck said. “How are you enjoying the evening so far?”

“I’ll enjoy it more once I see Andy, Charles and Storkules make fools of themselves, strutting about on that stage,” Rosa said with a small laugh. “Melissa plans on starting the bid for Andy for a single tortilla chip.”

“I believe one of the last times we spoke, you indicated that they might have feelings for each other,” Gizmoduck commented. Like it wasn’t a nearly nightly conversation, his mother treating her two fellow detectives dancing around each other and their feelings as if it was another one of her telenovelas.

“Sí, though they both act like children about it,” Rosa said, rolling her eyes. She took a sip of her drink. “It’s a shame that my son had a conflict. Otherwise, it’d be nice to see him up there, winning a date with a pretty girl. And I’d love for you to finally meet him.”

“Perhaps next time,” Gizmoduck said, though they both knew neither would be happening.

Rosa sipped her drink again. “So, Gizmo-polito, which one of these lovely bidders are you hoping wins your hand tonight?”

“I’ll be happy with whoever ends up winning the final bid,” Gizmoduck said.

“But have any of them caught your eye?” Rosa pressed. He knew that she was not asking as a detective to superhero, but as a mom to her romantically-challenged son.

“They are all lovely, but it doesn’t matter who wins,” Gizmoduck insisted. “It’s all in good fun, and for charity. Ultimately, it’s the kids who benefit from Dimes for Ducklings who wins. That’s what matters.”

Rosa closed her eyes and sighed.

“Polito, it’d be good for you to get back on that horse, find someone who will make you happy. You focus so much on making sure everyone else is cared for, but when was the last time you tended to your own happiness and well-being?”

“We’ve been over this,” Gizmoduck said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure that no one else was overhearing. “I’m fine. Happy. Everything’s fine and dandy. And this is a way to address my well-being. It’s a—”

“Palate cleanser, I know, I know,” Rosa said, rolling her eyes. “But, polito? I know it hurt. But don’t let that hurt limit you.”

They both knew what ‘it’ was, without any further discussion.

Or, rather, who ‘it’ was.

With a small smile, Rosa turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Gizmoduck with the newest batch of “huge fans” and a lot more to think about.

*****

“Storkules!”

The Greek deity turned upon hearing his named called by young Dewford, his bright eyes shining as he and his brothers approached.

“Greetings, my young heroes-in-training,” He said, holding out a fist for Louie to bump, as he had been taught was the traditional form of greeting in the culture of Duckburg. Appropriately, Louie returned the greeting, bumping his own fist to Storkules’.

“Oh my,” Tittered one of the young ladies he was speaking with. “And who are these fine young men?”

“Are you partaking in the bachelor auction, too?” Tittered her friend.

“Meet Hubert, Dewford and Louie Duck,” Storkules declared grandly. “They come from the noble line of Duck, bred with the same stock of courage, wit, and strength as their uncle, my best friend, Donald Duck.”

“Storkules,” Hubert said, raising and lowering himself on his toes in excitement. “Mom succeeded! Uncle Donald is here!”

Storkules felt himself straighten, looking around the crowded ballroom for his friend. “Indeed? Glorious!”

Dewford grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the group of ladies, who were now giggling and talking about Storkules being great with kids. Storkules knelt to the boys’ level.

“While I am glad that Friend Donald has arrived, I am afraid I am still confused,” He explained. “If he is not to be a bachelor in tonight’s auction, then how do we proceed to encourage him to seek out sharing lattes with the Fair Daisy?”

“Alright,” Louie said, grinning. “So here’s the plan.”

*****

Darkwing glanced at Gosalyn, who was—for all intents and purposes—hovering.

“Don’t you have things to do backstage?” He asked her.

“Nah,” Gosalyn said as she bit into another chocolate-covered strawberry. Darkwing was exercising great restraint from going into Dad-Mode and telling her to go put some carrots on her dessert-laden plate. “And miss out on seeing who gets jealous first? Dewey and I have a bet going, you know.”

“You and Dewey need to find better ways to occupy your time. And money,” Darkwing snarked. “Especially since neither of us will get jealous.”

“That’s right,” Launchpad agreed as he picked up a pig-in-a-blanket off his plate. “Everything is all in good fun. No need to be jealous of fun, so long as everyone’s having fun, right?”

At that moment, a woman walked past them, then paused, taking a step back. She looked Launchpad up and down with a voluptuous gaze, her eyes bright, and a small smile forming on her mouth.

“Number fifteen,” She said in a sultry voice. “Going to remember that.”

Then she proceeded to continue her walk, getting a little too close to Launchpad, who jumped a little, his cheeks flaming red, eyes wide.

Darkwing knew that look. He was often responsible for that look.

“Did she pinch you?” He asked in a low voice.

“Jealous?” Gosalyn asked, teasing, before she bit into a mini-cupcake.

“No,” Darkwing snapped. “Not of such callous, uncouth behavior.”

“Which one of you is causing trouble now?”

They turned to see their friend, Dr. Elise Schwanz, approach, wearing a dark green cocktail dress, her hair in her typical high ponytail, and carrying a glass of wine. She cocked an eyebrow, silently restating her question.

“Not us this time,” Launchpad said. “Just a bidder who got a bit… handsy.”

“Handsy,” Darkwing spat, then scoffed. “I’ll show her handsy…”

Gosalyn simply pointed in the direction the other woman had went. Elise’s eyes flickered over to the woman, who was now laughing with a group of friends. Elise rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I know her. Kind of self-entitled. Mostly harmless. Just ignore her and hope she gets outbid.”

“Speaking of,” Darkwing said. “Interesting seeing you here. It sounds like the set up for a joke. A lesbian walks into a bachelor auction…”

Elise laughed, but punched Darkwing on the arm in a friendly way. “My girlfriend is one of the event’s organizers, and you know it.”

“Also surprised you’re not by her side, restraining her from strangling Glomgold,” Gosalyn said.

“That’s because McDuck and I made a deal,” Zan said as she approached, linking her arm with Elise’s. “McDuck is responsible for keeping Glomgold under control until the auction begins.”

As if on cue, two loud voices in thick Scottish accents shouted at each other,

“I will win a greater amount of money at the auction tonight than you will, McDuck!”

“For the last time, Flinty, I’m not even in the auction!”

“Because you’re a coward, Scroogey, and know that I am the bachelor all the ladies are going to want, and not you! Mwahahaha!”

They weren’t sure if the huge heaved sigh was actually audible that far away, or if they all just knew Scrooge McDuck well enough to have heard it in their minds.

Zan smirked and sipped her wine happily.

“Not. My. Problem.” She stated. “Anyways. How are you eligible bachelors this evening?”

“Launchpad?”

They all turned to see a stunning black-necked crane approach, her long black hair tied up into a neat bun, wearing a red and gold cheongsam.

“Oh my god,” Elise breathed. “Is that—?”

Darkwing felt his mouth drop open some in shock and amazement, because he knew this woman. Only through magazine covers and television screens, but he knew her instantly.

“Brenda!” Launchpad exclaimed with a large grin. He hugged her, the embrace returned. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

“Was about to tell you the same, you big lug,” The woman said with a laugh. “Who would have thought that a bachelor auction is where we’d see each other after all this time?”

“Video chat isn’t the same,” Launchpad said, nodding in agreement. “And definitely crazy. Oh, let me introduce you to everyone!”

With his arm around the woman’s shoulders, Launchpad grinned at his friends. “Everyone, this is Brenda Birdsong. Brenda, this is Zan Owlson, one of our hosts tonight. Her girlfriend, Dr. Elise Schwanz. Gosalyn Mallard, who is co-MC’ing tonight, and my boyfriend’s daughter. And this is Darkwing Duck. We’re crime fighting partners!”

He said this last bit with the utmost pride, and Darkwing took that as a sign that he really needed to pick his jaw off the floor and compose himself.

Why the heck was Launchpad on such familiar terms with the world famous actress Brenda Birdsong?

“Crime fighting, huh?” Brenda said. “Man, have you’ve been keeping busy then. Are you still doing the pilot thing for Scrooge McDuck?”

“On the side,” Launchpad said.

Darkwing cleared his throat. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, how do you two know each other?”

Brenda chuckled again and put her hand on Launchpad’s chest. “We used to date, if you can believe it!”

“No way,” Zan breathed, staring at Launchpad with wide-eyes. “You. And Brenda Birdsong? _The_ Brenda Birdsong?”

“For a while,” Launchpad explained. “Until we realized we were better off as friends.”

“And it was long before I was ‘the’ anything,” Brenda said. “I was just getting started when we met, doing small parts and commercials where I could.”

“I still say all those directors were idiots for not casting you,” Launchpad told her.

“Perhaps,” Brenda said with a shrug. “So, do I get to meet this boyfriend of yours tonight?”

“He had to work,” Launchpad said. “Maybe next time.”

“Yes,” Darkwing said, voice tight. “I’m sure he’d just… love to meet you.”

He knew Launchpad had an extensive dating history. He knew vaguely about a mermaid, a Viking Shieldmaiden, a werewolf, and a few others that he had mentioned in passing.

But he had never met them before.

And he definitely hadn’t known about the famous actress ex.

Which, as a failed actor, cut him deeper than he liked.

Brenda was gorgeous, and famous, and successful in the art that he had studied and struggled to make a name in, only for what should have been his big break to go up in flames.

And she was here. Gathering stares and excited whispers, and _had her arm around Launchpad’s waist and her hand on his chest_.

And he was not in a position where he could assert himself as Launchpad’s boyfriend.

He was not jealous. No. No he was not…

Darkwing briefly glanced away, towards Gosalyn, who only arched an eyebrow and mouthed a single word at him.

_Jealous._

He narrowed his eyes at her, a silent _Not jealous_ retort.

“Well, hopefully he won’t mind if I place a bid or two on Launchpad,” Brenda said, not noticing the tension and smoldering emotions in Darkwing. “It’d be fun to go on one more date.”

“It would!” Launchpad agreed.

Darkwing gritted his teeth.

“I think my Dad wouldn’t mind at all,” Gosalyn said, her voice oozing a sweetness that she knew was going to drive Darkwing batty as she egged him and his not-jealousy on. Just how much money had she bet with Dewey? She batted her eyelashes at Darkwing. “Don’t you agree, Darkwing?”

“Yes,” He said, trying hard not to sound like the answer was forced. “I don’t think he would have a reason to be jealous _at all_.”

Gosalyn gave him a look that said that her work here was done.

“It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Birdsong,” She said. “I’ll see you all later. I need to go find Dewey so we can get this show on the road.”

But the way she practically skipped away told Darkwing that she was going to shake Dewey down for her betting pool winnings.

Leaving Darkwing to silently curse his child.

*****

Daisy was jotting down notes as she spoke with a young female dog, who was a Duckburg PD Detective named Melissa who was there with her Moonlander colleague, Penumbra, who looked grumpy to be at the event. Or maybe that was her natural disposition. Daisy wasn’t certain. But as Melissa explained,

“We’re doing girls’ night out with our other colleague, Rosa. Three of the guys in our squad are up for auction, and we’ve pooled our money so that I can win our friend Andy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Daisy commented.

“Not really,” Penumbra said tersely, her arms folded over her chest. “The whole thing is dumb. This is the worst revenge I’ve ever been part of.”

“Revenge?” Daisy questioned, looking up and arching a brow.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “See, a few months ago, I made this bet with Andy over how many cases we could solve in three months. Andy won, and as part of the deal, he took me on the worst date ever. I’m talking ugly prom dress with a huge butt bow, dinner at the greasiest Pancake Home you’ve ever seen, the works. I plan on winning him so that I can take him on the worst date ever.”

Daisy laughed. “Sounds perfect. I hope you win.”

“Thanks,” Melissa said, beaming.

“I hope you don’t,” Penumbra snapped.

“I hope you do, because maybe a second date will be just what you two need to get your acts together,” An older female duck said as she approached. “And you and Andy can admit your feelings for each other once and for all.”

“Ugh, Rosa,” Melissa said, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t _Patos de la Pasión_. Andy and I definitely do not have feelings for each other. None at all.”

Rosa smirked at her in a knowing manner, patting her arm. “Come, let’s go get a table.”

“It was nice to meet you, Daisy!” Melissa said, waving as Rosa led her and Penumbra away.

“Daisy!”

She turned to see Huey, Dewey and Louie run up to her, excited.

“Hi, boys,” She greeted, smiling at them, though it was soft. Daisy was still tender from being turned down by the boys’ uncle the day before. She knew it was a long-shot asking him out, but it still hurt to be rejected. Didn’t it always hurt to be rejected?

“Daisy,” Huey said. “You said yesterday that you were thinking about bidding tonight, are you still going to do that?”

“Maybe,” Daisy admitted with a shrug. “For the fun of it. Probably won’t make any winning bids, though. Why?”

“Because,” Dewey said, handing her a program booklet. “We think you should make a bid on one bachelor in particular.”

Oh, great, the nephews of the guy who rejected her were trying to help her rebound…

“That’s sweet of you,” She said cautiously. “But—”

“Be on the lookout for Bachelor Number Thirteen!” Louie said before he ran away with his brothers, both waving at her over their shoulders.

That was… odd.

Out of curiosity, Daisy flipped open the booklet to find Bachelor Number Thirteen.

Her brow furrowed.

“Why should I be on the lookout for Flintheart Glomgold?” She asked herself out loud.

There was the sound of a finger tapping a microphone and a young female voice declared, “Ladies, Gentlemen, and Non-Binary Folks, may we have your attention? All bachelors, please report backstage. Bidders and observers, please find your seats, the auction will begin in fifteen minutes.”

Well, at least she’d find out soon enough.

*****

Outside the ballroom, Quackfaster glanced up at a lone figure approaching, a young hen with brown feathers and cropped brown hair, wearing a pale-blue jumpsuit that left her arms and shoulders bare, glittering diamonds around her neck.

“Can I help you?” Quackfaster asked with a sigh.

“I’m here for the auction,” The woman said. “I’m running a little late.”

“I’ll say,” Quackfaster said dryly. “The auction is about to start. Name, please?”

The woman smiled. “It’s Gandra. Gandra Dee.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Welcome one and all to the first annual Dimes for Ducklings Bachelor Auction!” Dewey said as he and Gosalyn strode up onto to the stage, clutching a microphone. “I’m Dewey Duck!”

“And I’m Gosalyn Mallard,” Gosalyn said. “And we’re you’re hosts for tonight! Now let’s get this party started!”

*****

Backstage, Storkules heard Gosalyn and Dewey welcome the first bachelor to the stage, Louie ushering him on. Webby walked past him with another bachelor and gave him a thumbs-up and a wink.

It wasn’t his time to get on stage yet.

But it was his time to shine.

Storkules went to the snack table in the back and grabbed a water bottle. Then he sought out a certain round, tartan-clad duck.

He twisted off the cap, took a few steps and then…

“Oy! Watch where you’re going, you big oaf!”

“Oh, dear!” Storkules said dramatically, putting a hand to his cheek, lowering the water bottle he had just upended on the older duck. “I am so dreadfully sorry! Please accept my most humble of apologies, good sir!”

“I will do no such thing!” A soaking wet Flintheart Glomgold yelled, waving a fist as Storkules—who was at least three times the other man’s height. “This tartan is knock-off wool, do you know how easily knock-off wool shrinks when wet?”

“Then allow me to assist you,” Storkules said, putting a hand on Glomgold’s back, leading him further backstage. “I know just the thing to get you dry faster than Hermes can deliver a message for my mighty father, Zeus!”

“It better be fast or it will be coming out of your paycheck!” Glomgold snapped.

“Of course,” Storkules said, even though he was vaguely aware that Glomgold didn’t have any control of his paychecks. He opened a door. “Right through here, my good sir.”

Glomgold shoved Storkules back and marched right into the room.

“Well?” He demanded, looking around the storage closet. “What exactly—”

Storkules slammed the door and locked it.

Immediately, fists started pounding on the door.

“WHAT THE—DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I AM FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD AND YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS! YOU HEAR ME? I AM FLINTHEART GLOMGOOOOLLLDDDD!”

“Forgive me, Flintheart of Glomgold!” Storkules called through the door. “But I do what I must to ensure the happiness of my best friend, Donald Duck!”

With that, he dusted off his hands and walked away.

*****

“And now,” Gosalyn said. “We welcome to the stage—”

She paused and rolled her eyes as a cloud of purple smoke appeared on the stage. Of course her dad was going to make a dramatic entrance.

“Bachelor number three!” Dewey finished for her as Darkwing made a theatrical bow. “Virtually indestructible, superhero of Duckburg, and the terror that flaps in the night… give it up for Darkwing Duck, folks!”

There was polite applause throughout the room.

From his podium, Huey cleared his throat and said into his microphone. “Again, we begin the bidding at five hundred dollars. Do I hear five hundred dollars?”

One lady raised her sign half-heartedly.

“I hear five hundred. Do I hear six hundred?”

The lady lowered her sign after some consideration.

From the table where he sat with Della, Elise and Zan, Donald elbowed Della, who raised her own bidding sign.

“Six hundred!” Huey exclaimed. “Do I hear seven hundred?”

There were practically crickets chirping in response.

_Oh, come on, really?_ Darkwing thought to himself. _This is the thanks I get for protecting the City?_

At least Gosalyn felt the same way as she scowled at the audience.

“What is wrong with you people?” She demanded. “Look, ladies, do you not realize what a catch is right here? We’re talking the terror that flaps in the night! The champion of right! This is your chance to discover exactly who is the cunning mind behind that shadowy disguise! This could be your best night on the town, because this man knows the town at night the best!”

“Yeah!” Dewey piped up. “Darkwing owns the night! And you know what that means, folks! Your date can last _all night long_!”

“Wait, what?” Darkwing said, his eyes going wide as he turned to look at the two proud, beaming kids, nodding as more signs suddenly started going up by… very interested parties who seemed to be looking at Darkwing in a new light.

He was fairly certain that the kids were too young to catch the innuendo they had just put out. From where he sat in a table in front of the stage, Scrooge McDuck buried his face in his hands while further away Donald put his hand over his eyes, shaking his head, while Della was doubled over, laughing hysterically.

“That’s not… They don’t…” Darkwing said, flustered.

“Oh, for the love of…” Elise muttered under her breath. She sighed, grabbed her wineglass and drank the last of the wine before raising the empty glass in the air and calling out, “I bid a thousand dollars!”

“Alright, a thousand dollars is the bid to beat!” Huey declared. “Do I hear eleven hundred dollars?”

The other bidders quieted suddenly, with some griping and lustful looks at Darkwing.

“Going once, going twice…” Huey said. “And sold! For a thousand dollars to the lady in green!”

As Darkwing descended the stage and came to sit with Elise, Zan, Donald and Della, he whispered, “Thank you.”

“It was self-serving,” Elise said simply, holding her glass out to be refilled by a waiter. “I wanted that to be over as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, man, that was great,” Della said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“It was not,” Darkwing argued.

“It’ll be even better when they’re old enough to figure it out,” Della said, leaning back in her chair as the next bachelor was brought onto the stage.

*****

“Here he comes!” Melissa said with unrestrained glee as Andy strode onto the stage.

“Great,” Penumbra said dryly, resting her cheek on her hand. “Let’s get it over with.”

“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred dollars,” Huey Duck said from his podium. “Do I hear five hundred?”

Melissa cupped a hand to her mouth and called out, “Five hundred and a corn chip!”

This drew some laughter, especially from Andy, who called back, “Mels, I’m worth two corn chips and you know it!”

Penumbra groaned and looked to Rosa, who merely lifted the bidding sign.

“Five hundred! Do I hear six hundred?”

Rosa kept the sign in the air, glancing around the room to see she wasn’t the only one. There were at least a dozen more raised.

“Six hundred!” Huey said. “Do I hear seven hundred?”

The bidding kept going up, and bidding signs kept going down

They were up to a thousand dollars, and it was only them and two others.

“We’re so close,” Melissa whispered.

“Yeah, to losing all our money,” Penumbra whispered back. “We only have twelve hundred dollars.”

“Do I hear twelve hundred?” Huey asked.

Melissa grabbed the bidding sign from Rosa, getting on her feet and waving it in the air with great enthusiasm.

“Twelve hundred! Do I heard thirteen hundred?”

There was silence then, Huey said, “Going once… Going twice…”

“Thirteen hundred dollars.”

Melissa’s face and sign fell as she turned to see another woman at the next table over raise her bidding sign.

“Melissa, we can match the bid,” Rosa whispered to her fellow detective. “We can—”

There was the sound of a gavel striking.

“And sold!” Huey declared, as Andy walked off the stage to be greeted by the winning bidder, offering her his arm.

As they passed, the woman smirked at Melissa and whispered, “Better luck next time, sweetie.”

Melissa’s shoulders slumped and Rosa put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“So…” Penumbra said. “We get to go now, right?”

*****

Donald wouldn’t admit it out-loud, but the night wasn’t going too horrible. He was actually having fun with Della, the two of them making sarcastic commentary to each other and laughing softly as the evening progressed, and the addition of Darkwing to the table with them, Elise and Zan only added to the amount of sarcastic commentary.

Now if he could stop glancing across the room at Daisy and stop the ache in his chest when he saw her, then he’d be golden.

It was as he was stealing one of those glances that Donald nearly leapt out of his seat when Louie suddenly appeared between him and Della.

“Mom, Uncle Donald!” He hissed, grabbing at their arms. “Come quick, it’s an emergency!”

Donald’s eyes widened as he and Della rushed backstage with Louie, to find Webby pacing frantically, Storkules trailing her steps.

“What’s the emergency, kids?” Della asked.

“We can’t find Glomgold, and he’s supposed to go on soon!” Webby explained.

“We have searched every which where!” Storkules lamented, throwing his arm across his eyes. “What ever shall we do?”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Donald said dryly. “Don’t worry, that’s probably for the best.”

“But we need another bachelor to replace him!” Louie said. “We can’t let Uncle Scrooge and Ms. Owlson down!”

“I think they’ll both be relieved that Glomgold doesn’t make a fool of himself on the stage,” Donald assured him. “Just let Storkules—”

“No!” Webby said, practically leaping on Donald, her feet against his chest and her hands in his shirt collar. “We need all the bachelors! It’ll throw off the projected final total for the charity!”

“Yeah, Uncle Donald, think of the children!” Louie exclaimed.

“Yes, Friend Donald, the children!” Storkules agreed.

“Don’t worry, kids, I’ve got an idea for the perfect solution!” Della said. “Because we have a replacement bachelor right here!”

Donald frowned, not understanding her train of thought. “You… You want me to go grab Drake?” He suggested, knowing that Drake probably had a spare set of clothes to make a quick costume change.

“Nope!” Della said, pushing Donald by his shoulders. “Louie, go inform Dewey and Gos about the change of plans!”

Louie grinned and dashed away.

Donald felt his blood run cold, his eyes widening.

“Della,” He said, a warning edge in his voice. “What are you…?”

To his horror, he heard Dewey’s voice from the stage:

“It appears that there has been a slight change of plans from the program. Please welcome the new and improved Bachelor Number Thirteen!”

Donald let out a squawk and tried to turn to run away, but the combined force of Della, Storkules, and Webby was too strong as he was shoved towards the stage.

“Knock ‘em dead, Uncle D!” Louie said, giving him a grin and thumbs-up as he passed, Donald gripping the curtains in desperation.

With a final shove from his sister, best friend, and honorary niece, Donald stumbled onto the stage, the spotlight on him.

Donald gulped, frozen in place, the light on him too hot, his heart pounding, lungs tight, sweat running down his face.

The crowd blurred together, as were the voices. He vaguely heard his Uncle’s low “What in the Dismal Downs?” and Dewey’s voice, but it felt so far away.

“Expert sailor, loving uncle and brother, and lover of lattes, Donald Duck, ladies and gentlemen!” Dewey said grandly as he got closer to Donald, his eyes shining.

“Dewey,” Donald hissed. “What is going on?”

Dewey lowered his microphone and said, “Uncle Donald, you’ve sacrificed so much for me, Huey and Louie over the years—it’s time we repaid that!”

_Not like this,_ Donald thought frantically as he heard Huey start the bidding. Though his blood ran cold as Huey started the bidding in a much different way than before.

“Daisy Duck, how much would you like to bid for a date with this fine gentleman here?” Huey asked, leaning over his podium some.

No. No, they were not… They couldn’t…

And yet he heard Daisy’s voice call, “Twelve hundred dollars.”

Huey immediately hit his gavel on the podium, the sound ringing in Donald’s ears, and cried out, “And sold!”

There was a smattering of polite but confused applause.

Donald couldn’t move.

He was fairly certain he was having a panic attack.

How could they have done this?

He swallowed hard as his eyes met Daisy’s as she approached the stage, her eyes bright and a smile on her face.

Donald took one, deep, shuddering breath.

And turned on his heel and ran off the stage.

*****

Huey and Dewey glanced at each other with wide eyes as they watched Donald run off the stage, Daisy pausing in front of the stage, her eyes wide with hurt.

Perhaps… it was possible they hadn’t thought this plan through entirely…

“And now,” Gosalyn said quickly, trying to diffuse tension and mood that had filled the room. “Let’s welcome to the stage Bachelor Number Fourteen! Demigod of Ithaquack, one of Duckburg’s finest officers, and the man who can lift pretty much anything! Storkules!”

From the side of the stage, Della and Storkules shared a look.

“Go,” She whispered. “I’ll find Donald.”

Storkules nodded, his heart heavy. The look on Donald’s face had been painful. He hated the thought of having caused his best friend distress, especially when attempting to do the opposite.

*****

Meanwhile, Melissa was somewhere between fuming and moping.

“Seriously, there are so many people here, does she have zero sense of shame?” She whispered to Rosa and Penumbra.

“I’m pretty sure none of you Earthers know the concept of shame,” Penumbra said, slumped in her seat, but also glaring across at the next table, where the woman who won Andy was shamelessly flirting with him, getting way too touchy-feely with a man she just met and hadn’t even gone on a date with. Andy initially had looked uncomfortable with the attention, but was slowly warming up to her.

“You’re just making yourself miserable, chica,” Rosa told her in a pitying way. “It’s not healthy.”

At that point, though, Andy caught Melissa staring at them. He excused himself and walked over.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re bummed about not winning me,” He told Melissa, putting his hands in his pockets.

Melissa sat up straighter, her cheeks flushed. “I’m not bummed. I’m the opposite of bummed. No bums here. In fact, I wasn’t even _wanting_ to win you. We just… we didn’t think anyone would bid for you. So we didn’t want you to be bummed. So. You’re the bum. Bum. I’m totally going to walk away here with a date. That’s not going to be a bum. Unlike you.”

“Oh, really?” Andy said. “Then how come you haven’t bid on anyone else yet?”

“Yes, Melissa, how come?” Rosa asked, sipping her wine.

Melissa glared at her for a moment then smiled at Andy. “I, uh, I…”

She froze as she heard a familiar name being called from the stage and she said, “Because the bachelor in question just took the stage!”

Andy turned to the stage, his eyes wide. “You’re going to bid on Storkules?”

“Of course I am,” Melissa said, immediately throwing her sign in the air, nearly hitting Penumbra in the face as she did so. “Yeah, I really, really want to go out with Storkules. You know. As friends. A friend date.”

“A friend date?” Andy repeated, his brow furrowed.

“Yep. Friend. Date.” Melissa said, feeling awkward with her arm sticking straight up into the air. “Now, if you’ll toodle off, I’ve got to focus on this.”

“Smooth save,” Rosa mumbled as Andy walked back towards his date.

“Shut up,” Melissa hissed, her cheeks red.

“You know he was jealous, right?” Rosa whispered.

“Not. Patos. De. La. Pasión.” Melissa hissed.

“Of course it’s not. This would be _Perros de la Pasión_ ,” Rosa said smugly.

“And sold for twelve hundred dollars to the lovely lady in the back!”

Melissa breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was the lovely lady in the back in question and Storkules came to join them.

“Greetings,” Storkules said, sounding sad. “I am most grateful to be in familiar and friendly hands. Thank you for your bidding, Valiant Melissa.”

“Storkules, what’s wrong?” Melissa asked, frowning at her friend as he took a seat.

“I fear that I have taken part in a most distressing event for my dearest companion, Donald Duck,” He said. He looked down at the table. “And I do not know how to rectify the situation.”

“So. Now can we go?” Penumbra asked hopefully.

Melissa sighed. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Not yet,” Rosa said, a warning tone in her voice. “We’re staying until we see Gizmoduck.”

With a groan, Penumbra hit her head on the table.

*****

As Storkules left the stage to applause, Gosalyn whispered to Dewey, “You good?”

He nodded vaguely. “Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can fix this.”

So he put on another smile, though one that didn’t reach his eyes, as he said into his microphone, “And now, we welcome Bachelor Number Fifteen! Planes, cars, submarines, if you can pilot it, he can crash it! Give it up for Launchpad McQuack!”

*****

“You good?” Elise asked Darkwing in a whisper as Dewey said Launchpad’s number.

“Of course I’m good,” Darkwing snapped. “I am totally and completely fine with this. Why does no one believe me?”

“Because we all know how incredibly petty you are.” Elise told him.

Darkwing narrowed his eyes at her. “I am not petty.”

“The absolute pettiest,” Elise said teasingly.

“Am not,” Darkwing argued with a huff.

But he couldn’t help but let his eyes slip over across the room to where Brenda Birdsong sat, her bidding sign in her lap, clearly itching to get it in the air as soon as Huey said,

“And we start the bidding at five hundred. Do I hear five hundred?”

Darkwing’s teeth were on edge as Brenda, along with a few others, raised their signs. He could see the other ladies glancing at Brenda warily. She could outbid them all, easily.

And she’d go out with Launchpad.

And they’d have a good time, and Launchpad would be his perfect self, and they’d both wonder why they ever broke up and decide to get back together and Drake would die alone and unloved.

No. Not if he had anything to say about it…

“Uh, _brrring brrring_ ,” He said out of the corner of his mouth, grabbing his phone. Elise arched an eyebrow with a bemused smirk, clearly judging him as he said into the phone to a nonexistent person, “What’s that? A robbery? Beagle Boys? No, no, don’t bother Gizmoduck, Darkwing Duck is on the way!”

He made a show of shutting off his phone and stood up. “Uh, duty calls, gotta go!”

With that, he dashed out of the room.

Elise shook her head and glanced at Zan, who arched an eyebrow in a silent question.

“He’ll be back,” She assured her.

But, if she suspected correctly, it wouldn’t be as Darkwing Duck.

*****

Launchpad met Brenda’s eyes, both grinning as she declared that she would bid fourteen hundred dollars.

“Fourteen hundred, do I hear fifteen hundred?” Huey called out into the ballroom. When no one else raised their signs, he nodded and said, “Fourteen hundred, going once… Going twice…”

Before he could slam down his gavel, the doors to the ballroom were thrown open with a bang.

Everyone turned, staring in shock at the newcomer, with the exception of one Doctor Elise Schwanz, who just sipped her wine and waited for the drama to get good.

“Fifteen hundred!” An out-of-breath Drake Mallard wheezed. “I bid fifteen hundred dollars!”

“Buh?” Launchpad said in surprise, blinking.

“Huh?” Gosalyn and Dewey said together, tilting their heads in confusion.

Huey blinked, then he regained his composure. He glanced at Dewey and Gosalyn. All three of them shrugged and Huey said, “Alright, fifteen hundred. Do I hear—”

“Sixteen hundred!” Brenda declared from where she sat.

“Seventeen hundred!” Drake challenged as he marched his way up towards the stage.

Brenda stood up, glaring down the challenger as she said, “Eighteen hundred!”

She and Drake were standing practically beak to beak, staring each other down, as Drake yelled, “Two thousand dollars!”

In the silence that followed, Gosalyn quickly said into her microphone, “Uh, at this point, we would like to issue a public service announcement that reminds all bidders to think of their other financial obligations beyond this evening. For example, their daughter’s allowance!”

At that, Brenda’s hard eyes softened as she took in Drake, hastily dressed in the emergency civilian clothes he had brought, his shirt missing a button, his tie loose, and his jacket slightly dusty from its time being stored in the Ratcatcher.

“I concede,” Brenda said simply with a nod of respect towards Drake.

“Two thousand dollars,” Huey said, his eyes wide. No one had offered that much money that evening for any of the bachelors. “Going once… Going twice…” He hit the gavel. “Sold!”

And it was as the gavel hit that Drake Mallard fully soaked in what he had just done, shame seeping through him.

He just spent two thousand dollars.

To go on a date with his own boyfriend.

Because he was, in fact, petty and jealous.

As he backed away, he saw Gosalyn hold out her hand towards Dewey, who groaned and pulled out a dollar bill, slapping it into her hand.

Yeah. He had screwed up.

*****

As the excitement died down, it was finally time.

“Now, last but not least, give it up for our final bachelor of the night: _Gizmoduck_!”

Gizmoduck rolled out onto the stage, waving at the roaring applause.

Once the noise had settled, Huey said his usual spiel about starting at five hundred dollars.

Quite quickly, they were surpassing it.

To be honest, Gizmoduck was afraid he’d have to break up a brawl before he got sold as women started to fight over him.

“Fifteen hundred!” One called, shoving aside a tablemate who screamed, “Sixteen hundred!”

Other women screamed out their bids.

But then one voice rang out throughout the room, silencing them all.

“Five. Thousand. Dollars.”

Everyone turned to look at the young hen who was making her way down the aisle, dressed in a pale blue jumpsuit and diamonds, her black fingerless gloves looking out of place in her otherwise elegant ensemble.

In the back of the room, Rosa gasped, her eyes wide.

“What?” Melissa asked. “What’s wrong?”

“What is she doing here?” Rosa demanded, none of her companions knowing how to answer or why Rosa suddenly looked furious.

“Who is she?” Penumbra asked, staring at the curious young hen.

From the side of the stage, Webby gasped, putting her hands over her beak, her eyes wide.

“Webby?” Louie said with concern. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s her!” Webby whispered.

Gizmoduck could only stare as he met the eyes of Gandra Dee.

“I bid five thousand dollars,” Gandra said, her eyes still on Gizmoduck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gizmoduck could see that Huey was seconds away from displaying the infamous Duck family temper as he glared at Gandra.

“Bids,” He said quickly. “Any other bids?”

The room was silent. No one had even dreamed of putting out that amount of cash tonight, even for Gizmoduck.

“LITERALLY, ANYONE ELSE?” Huey yelled into the silence.

Gandra only smirked.

“Five thousand, one hundred.” She said simply.

Keeping one eye on Gandra, Gizmoduck looked over towards Huey. He gave the young boy a single nod.

Gandra wanted something. She was here for a reason.

And he was going to find out what.

Fuming, Huey snapped, “Going once. Going twice.”

The gavel hit with more force than necessary, splitting the head from the handle.

“Sold. To Gandra Dee.”


	4. Chapter 4

People were still milling about the ballroom, chatting and mingling, as Fenton entered, tugging self-consciously on his suit jacket, hastily shrugged on, grateful he had had the foresight to pack it as a ‘just in case’ thing. He looked around the room for Gandra.

“Excuse me,” Fenton murmured as he walked through the room.

“Oh,” Said one man, brightening upon seeing him. “Here, thank you, young man.”

Fenton blinked. “Wait, I’m not—”

But he was cut off as dirty dishes were piled into his arms. Clearly, he had been mistaken for the hotel wait staff who were clearing up after the event.

Ironic, given that he had been the event’s biggest moneymaker…

Fenton teetered under the unexpected weight, praying that the precariously stacked dishes didn’t crash.

Right as he thought that they were about to fall, someone reached up and took the top half of the stack.

“Pulling double duty tonight, huh, Suit?”

As Fenton regained his balance, he found himself looking into the eyes of Gandra Dee.

“Gandra,” Fenton breathed, then winced as the top plate in his stack fell, shattering on the ground. Cheeks heated, he quickly used his foot to hide the shards under the nearest table.

“Suit,” Gandra greeted as she set her stack of plates on the table. She cocked a hip and put her hand on it. “You’re looking good.”

“Cut the small talk, Gandra,” Fenton snapped. “Why did you come here tonight?”

“Obviously, to bid in a charity bachelor auction,” Gandra said. “And I’d say I scored big time.”

Fenton arched an eyebrow at her. “Yeah. Now, tell me, whose funding and resources did you use to manage that?”

“Uh, my own?” Gandra said with a small scoff of a laugh. “So distrustful, Fenton.”

“You know I have every reason to be,” Fenton told her. She merely shrugged in acceptance, increasing Fenton’s ire. “You’re the very last person I expected to put in a bid for Gizmoduck. Or are you trying to get another date with him because Beaks ordered you to?”

Gandra’s face darkened. “I cut ties with Beaks. I’m no longer associated with him,” She said flatly. She huffed. “I swear, there’s no alternative motive for me being here tonight other than to try to win a date.”

“Good for you. You got Gizmoduck.” Fenton spat out the name of his alter ego, waving his hands in the air. “Congratulations! You got what you set out to achieve! Because results are all that matter to the great scientist Gandra Dee!”

Gandra straightened her shoulders, her eyes intense as she got close to Fenton, till they were practically beak-to-beak. She poked a finger in his chest.

“Listen here, Suit,” She hissed. “I came here tonight for two reasons. One of those reasons is for myself. And the second reason—” She jabbed him in the chest a few times. “Is not Gizmoduck.”

Fenton’s brow furrowed. “Then why—?”

“I didn’t put a bid on Gizmoduck,” Gandra said, taking a step back from him. “I don’t give a flying fig about Gizmoduck. I put a bid on the man beneath the suit.”

Fenton felt his chest go tight as he blinked, staring at her in disbelief. “You… You put a bid on…?”

The heat in Gandra’s gaze softened, and she nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

Suddenly, she reached out and gave Fenton’s cheek an affectionate pat, smiling at him. “Hey, if you see Gizmoduck, tell him I’m available next Saturday.” Her smile grew as she said, “I believe he has my number.”

Fenton still stood stunned as Gandra turned on her heel and walked away.

*****

Scrooge McDuck was furious, pacing in front of the stage, where Della, Huey, Dewey, and Louie sat, petrified for the lecture that was to come. Webby had decided that her time would be better spent backstage, finishing clearing up things back there. No, she wasn’t hiding from Uncle Scrooge, thank you very much. She had just concluded that her involvement in this scheme was minimal and therefore she did not need to face the outraged Scotsman.

“What the blazes were you kids thinking?” Scrooge finally demanded, throwing his arms wide before putting his hands on his hips.

“That Uncle Donald deserves to be happy and have a girlfriend?” Huey said in a small voice.

“And so you took away his autonomy in making those important decisions for himself? Humiliating him, and that girl, in the process?” Scrooge snapped, slamming the tip of his cane onto the floor. He glared at Della. “You, of all people, Della, should know better. You know Donald’s history. You know everything about all of his past relationship struggles.”

“I thought he just needed a push,” Della said, but her voice sounded small, knowing her excuses were weak. “You know, get back into the game…”

“No, he needed to do things as he was comfortable,” Scrooge snapped.

“But he really likes Daisy! We know it! We could see it! We could practically _feel it_!” Dewey said. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “We just wanted to show him that it was okay for him to date again! Since it’s our fault he doesn’t!”

“Now, how the blazes did you get that into your heads?” Scrooge demanded.

“Uh, the fact that Uncle Donald has never once in our lives gone on a date,” Louie said.

Scrooge sighed and made a shooing motion, indicating for Huey to move over so that he could sit between Huey and Louie on the stage.

“You know, I asked your uncle if he would like to be in the auction tonight,” Scrooge said. “Oh, I tried to twist his arm about it when he said no at first. But I let it drop when he told me he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of dating.” He reached up and ruffled Louie’s hair, pet Huey’s knee, and glanced past Louie to look at Della and Dewey. “And it has nothing to do with you lot. He loves you all more than anything else in the world.”

“We know that,” Huey insisted. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t feel like we’re being a hold-up for him to be happy.”

“And you don’t think he’s happy now?” Scrooge asked.

“Has Uncle Donald ever been happy?” Louie asked.

“Of course he has,” Scrooge said. “Happiest I’ve ever seen him was the day he learned Della was expectin’ you three. But Donald’s issues with dating far predate your hatching, or Della’s disappearance.”

“Really?” Della said, sounding surprised. She deflated. “He never talked to me about it… Before, or now.”

“You had bigger things goin’ on,” Scrooge said. “He didn’t want to trouble you at the time. He didn’t even tell me until I tried to get him involved in the auction.”

“But I’m his sister! His twin!” Della exclaimed. “Donald should know he can tell me anything and everything!”

“Again, he wasn’t ready at the time,” Scrooge said. “And perhaps he still isn’t ready. He only told me the bare basics. Maybe he won’t ever be ready to tell anyone everything. My point is, not everyone’s version of happy is the same. If Donald wants to expand his version to include a romantic partner, then we’ll of course be supportive of him. But he needs to take it at his own pace. Ye can’t force him into something he’s not ready for, and be patient and let him come to you when he is ready to talk.” He glanced at all of them. “Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, Uncle Scrooge,” Della and the boys chorused.

“Good,” Scrooge said, hopping off the stage. “Now. How about we go find Donald?”

Della followed Scrooge’s lead, her metal foot making a small noise as it hit the floor underneath her skirts.

“Fortunately,” She said. “I still know enough about Donald that I know exactly where to look.”

*****

Drake sat in a hallway of the hotel, on the floor, his head in his hands.

He hadn’t quite found the courage to go face Launchpad. Or Gosalyn. Not after the spectacle he had made, not after insisting he wouldn’t get jealous, not after all the little doubts and worries he had conjured up in his own head.

“Mind if I join you?”

Drake looked up to see Brenda Birdsong, who didn’t even wait for him to respond before she sat down beside him.

“Hi,” She said, smiling at him. “I’m Brenda. You must be Drake. I’m assuming you’re Drake.”

“Yeah, I’m Drake,” He admitted.

“Launchpad’s boyfriend,” Brenda continued with a small nod. “You’ve got a good guy there, you know? We used to date, if you can believe it.”

“I know,” Drake said in response to both the question and statement.

“That was pretty romantic, what you did tonight,” Brenda told him. “It was incredibly sweet.”

“What, running in, bidding for him for an outrageous amount of money in a fit of petty jealously?” Drake asked dryly.

“Yes. That,” Brenda said, nodding. “You’re willing to fight for him. I think he needs that, you know? Launchpad has always been good at showing people that they’re worthy, but sometimes I worry that he doesn’t realize that he’s worthy, too.”

Drake frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

Brenda didn’t respond right away, smoothing out her skirt in front of her, then she said, “Launchpad and I dated before I became famous. Before I got any real starring roles. There were somedays I was just ready to quit, to realize I was never going to make it as an actress. I thought my dream was too big. I would have given up on that dream if it weren’t for Launchpad. He convinced me to go and do one last audition. Twenty-seven times.”

“What, twenty-seven?” Drake said with surprise. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Brenda said with a laugh. “What can I say? Launchpad can be persuasive. Even after we broke up, he convinced me to give it one more shot. And then, finally, it happened. I got the gig of a lifetime. And all because he believed in me, when I didn’t believe in myself. And I think, somewhere along the way, I did realize I needed to believe in myself more. I needed to keep my dream alive, especially when I finally realized what my dream was. It wasn’t to be a movie star. It was so that I could give some kid what I didn’t have growing up, which was to see someone like me on the screen. I had to not only know my worth, but show it. And I would never have done that if I didn’t have Launchpad to show me that, to keep pushing me, to keep supporting me.”

Drake felt his entire body warm, remembering that horrible day at the smoldering movie set.

_“What am I going to do?” He had asked in dismay as his entire past, present, and future went up in flames._

_“What Darkwing Duck always does. Get back up.” Launchpad had told him._

Then a few weeks later, when Drake felt defeated, failing miserably as Darkwing Duck, Gosalyn in the hands of Taurus Bulba and his goons, all hope lost.

_“Get. Back. Up.” Launchpad had told him firmly. “That’s what Darkwing Duck does. And that’s what Drake Mallard does. Now get. Back. Up.”_

Drake couldn’t be everything he was—superhero, father, boyfriend, friend—without Launchpad and his support.

He understood what Brenda was saying. But he also understood when she continued, looking him in the eye, “I don’t know how he does it, but every person that Launchpad dates becomes a better person. But, sometimes, I don’t think he realizes that he is this amazing person. He doesn’t see the self-worth he gets others to see in themselves. You may have seen it as jealousy. But I saw it as showing Launchpad that he is worth fighting for. I hope he sees it that way, too.”

Drake felt the tension in his shoulders ease, a smile crossing his face. “I hope so, too. I just… I love him so much. He completes me. I feel safe with him. Like I can be vulnerable with him. And I want him to know he can do the same with me. I hope he feels like he can be the same with me.”

“Then don’t tell me that,” Brenda said, getting to her feet, holding out her hand for Drake. “Tell Launchpad.”

Drake accepted her hand.

Together, they went to track down one crash-prone pilot.

*****

Rosa insisted that they go to the hotel’s bar when the event was over, and wouldn’t say why.

Penumbra just groaned.

When they arrived, Storkules paused at seeing someone else sitting there, looking despondent as she stared into her Cosmopolitan.

“Fair Daisy?” He said, approaching her cautiously.

Daisy looked up, her entire body tensing before deflating and looking back at her drink, her cheeks as pink as the dress she wore. “Hello.” She said softly.

“You two know each other?” Melissa asked as she hopped onto a barstool beside Daisy, Storkules and Penumbra following suit. Rosa, however, simply leaned against the bar, glaring at the doors leading to the ballroom, her stance instantly in cop-mode, something that did not escape Penumbra’s notice.

“What is it?” Penumbra asked, with way too much enthusiasm. “Something about to go down? A thief? Shifty looking person? Did you see a wanted gangster?”

“None of the above,” Rosa snapped.

“Right,” Penumbra said, turning around on the stool and hopping off to stand beside Rosa, already in a stance, ready to run and tackle someone if need be. “We’ll do a stake-out. This girls-night is finally starting to look up!”

Meanwhile, Melissa ordered herself a Cosmopolitan and a cider for Storkules as he explained, “Friend Donald bequeathed the honor of introducing myself to Fair Daisy.”

“Yeah. He did,” Daisy said flatly, sipping at her drink. “Before rejecting me. For the first time in the last two days.”

Melissa arched an eyebrow and looked between Daisy and Storkules, the latter of whom looked ashamed.

“Forgive me, Fair Daisy,” Storkules said. “For I played a part in what transpired this evening, unawares of how it would bring distress to you and Donald.”

“Oh, he was distressed, was he?” Daisy snapped, her eyes hard as she stared at her glass. “Well, I was _humiliated_.”

Storkules flinched. “I assure you, that was not his intention. Donald would never wish to see you or anyone humiliated. He is too noble, too pure-of-heart for that. I fear that he, too, felt embarrassment about what transpired.”

Daisy looked up, wary. “Why do you say that?”

“He did not wish to be on the stage, in the auction tonight,” Storkules explained. “Myself, his nephews, his sister, and the Valiant Webigail forced him upon the stage to replace the Flintheart of Glomgold, following some devious trickery. He resisted every moment of the event. I am ashamed to say that in forcing him to do so, we put him in an uncomfortable position. And, by proxy, you. My most sincerest apologies, my fair lady.”

Daisy stared at him, blinking twice quickly then she said, “He… You tricked him? Into going onto the stage? Only moments before? Not before the auction started?”

“Indeed,” Storkules confirmed, nodding.

Daisy took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly. “He didn’t want to be up there.”

Storkules nodded.

Daisy took several deep breaths, blinking rapidly, as if to ward away tears, her jaw set.

When the silence stretched on, Storkules said, “We thought we were being helpful. Encouraging Donald to accept your advances, which we perceived that he denied only because he believed he couldn’t. We wanted to change those misconceived perceptions. I am truly sorry for our actions and misguided thoughts to have impacted you so, Fair Daisy.”

“I just…” Daisy hesitated. “I just wish I could talk to him, does that make sense?” She looked up at Storkules, hopeful. “Do you think he would talk to me? Just one more time, for closure? For the both of us?”

Storkules nodded. “Donald is a reasonable man on great honor and great valor. He will honor your request for a final conversation. I suspect that he has returned to his houseboat, in the backyard pool of McDuck Manor. If you inform the Formidable Mrs. Beakley that I have sent you, she shall grant you entry.”

Daisy nodded and stood up. She reached into her purse to pay the bartender, but Storkules put his hand on her arm. “Go,” He instructed. “I shall settle your tab. It is the very least I can do after the distress I have caused you.”

Daisy smiled at him. “Thank you, Storkules.” To Melissa, she smiled and said, “Seems like you got the evening’s best catch, even if it wasn’t the one you wanted.”

Melissa smiled faintly as Daisy waved good-bye to them.

“She’s right, you are a good catch,” Melissa told Storkules. “You need to remember that.”

Storkules’ brow furrowed as he turned to her. “I appreciate the compliment, but I sense that there is more meaning behind your words.”

Melissa sipped her drink and said, “Look. Storkules. The way you talk about Donald… you like him, don’t you?”

Storkules stared at her in confusion. “Of course I like Donald. He is my best friend. He is, without a doubt, my favorite person—mortal or immortal—in the world.”

“See?” Melissa said, gesturing to Storkules with a sigh.

“No. I do not.” Storkules said, shaking his head.

Melissa looked up at him sadly. “Storkules. Are we both leaving here tonight with unrequited feelings?”

“Oh, so now you admit you have feelings for Andy?” Rosa said, leaning past Penumbra to glare at Melissa.

“Yeah,” She said sheepishly.

“My feelings are not unrequited,” Storkules protested. “For I am Donald’s best friend.”

“I believe that Melissa is referring to romantic feelings, Storkules,” Rosa said, resuming her previous position.

Storkules felt his jaw drop, then he shook his head. “No. No! I do not have feelings of that sort for Donald!”

“Look how long Melissa’s been saying that about Andy before she finally cracked,” Penumbra added unhelpfully. “About time, too. It’s been _so_ obnoxious.”

“It is not the same!” Storkules protested.

He had always felt intensely about Donald. But only feelings of friendship. The most profound friendship. He had no reason to feel anything else.

Was that not so?

And why was that idea making him feel so… uneasy?

Storkules was spared further introspection—and the uncomfortableness that accompanied it—as a duck approached.

To the other officers’ surprise, a weary looking Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera hopped up onto a barstool beside where his mother stood.

“When did you get here?” Melissa asked, but her question was quickly overridden by one from Rosa.

“Did you put that she-demon in her place?” Rosa demanded of her son as he rested his elbows on the top and his face on his hands.

“It’s complicated, M’ma,” Fenton said with a sigh.

“What does she want, pollito?” Rosa pressed.

“I don’t know,” Fenton groused, clenching his hair with his fingers. “Blathering…” He cut himself off with a groan. “Ugh, this is a mess… A big huge mess…”

Rosa sighed and turned towards the bar itself, smacking the top with her hand to get the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a martini, dry, and he’ll have a Shirley Temple.”

“M’Ma, I think I’m going to need something a little stronger,” Fenton said, lifting his head up slightly as the bartender filled the request.

“And the last thing I need is to drag your drunk tailfeathers home after you take a single sip of alcohol,” Rosa retorted.

Fenton sighed. “Shirley Temple it is, then.”

Penumbra looked around. “So…Stake-out over?”

“Sí. Stake-out over.” Rosa confirmed with a brisk nod as she sipped her drink.

Penumbra hopped onto a barstool and pouted, her arms crossed over her chest. “Worst. Girls Night. Ever.”

*****

“There you are!” Launchpad called out as he rushed over to Drake, Gosalyn on his heels. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Yeah, well,” Drake said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh, Brenda and I had a bit of a chat…”

Brenda chuckled and patted his arm, then said to Gosalyn, “How about you and I go get a mocktail?”

Gosalyn nodded and she and Brenda headed toward the bar. Once they were gone, Drake sighed, running a hand over the top of his head nervously.

“Listen, LP… I’m sorry for acting in a jealous manner tonight. But I just… Well, I can’t live without you. You’re my best friend, and better half, and… everything. And I got it somewhere in my head that I was going to lose you, if you went on a date with someone else. Because someone else would see exactly what I see: this amazing guy, who is kind and thoughtful and funny, who makes the world’s best burritos and gives the best hugs and just generally the best person ever. And I don’t tell you that enough. But you’re amazing, and worth every dime I bid tonight. No, you’re worth more than every coin in the Money Bin combined. You’re just… I love you.”

“Aw, Drake,” Launchpad said, smiling at him. “I love you, too.” Launchpad grabbed Drake’s hands in both of his, holding them to his chest. “And, to be honest? I’m kind of glad you won me tonight.”

“Really?” Drake said, surprised.

“Yeah,” Launchpad said. “It kind of made me realize, we haven’t actually been on a date in a while? We’re always spending time together, whether it’s at night fighting crime, or at your house or the mansion. But it’s not the same. And I’ve missed that. And, I guess, in a way, I’ve been missing you, too.”

Drake smiled and said, “Well, then, we’re just going to have to fix that.”

He rose on his toes and kissed Launchpad, who leaned down to meet him half-way. It started as a small, loving, gentle peck. Then it became something deeper, full of passion and a bit of heat.

“Oh, get a room. There’s plenty of them here.”

They broke apart for Drake to glare at Gosalyn, who was tapping her foot, Brenda standing behind her with her fingertips to her mouth, barely restraining giggles.

“Big talk for someone who is up way, way, way past her bedtime,” Drake retorted.

Gosalyn merely shrugged.

“Well, how do you feel about letting her stay up a little more, and we all go grab a bite from the nearest Hamburger Hippo?” Brenda suggested. “My treat.”

Drake and Launchpad exchanged a glance before they both nodded.

“Sounds great,” Drake said.

“I could go for a burger,” Launchpad said.

“Keen gear!” Gosalyn exclaimed, putting a fist in the air with excitement. “Let’s go!”

*****

“Uncle Donald?”

Donald looked up to see the boys and Della approach him where he sat on the side of the pool, his feet in the water.

“Uncle Donald, we’re so sorry about tonight,” Huey said as he sat beside Donald. “We shouldn’t have meddled.”

“Yeah,” Louie said, sitting on Donald’s other side. “We thought we were helping. But instead we made a huge mess.”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Della said, resting her hands on Donald’s shoulders. “We were trying to be helpful.”

“We’re really, really sorry,” Dewey added as he sat on Huey’s other side.

Donald wrapped his arm around the triplets. “I know you are.”

“But we promise,” Dewey declared. “From now on, we won’t interfere in your love life ever again!”

“Unless you want us to,” Huey added.

Dewey and Louie both narrowed their eyes at Huey, who grinned sheepishly and said, “Alright. Not at all…”

“I guess we also need to find Daisy and apologize to her, too,” Louie said.

“Apology accepted.”

They all whirled around to see Daisy approaching.

Huey, Dewey and Louie all turned to look at Donald.

“Yeah, we had no part in this one,” Dewey said.

Donald blinked, stunned, staring at Daisy.

“How? Why? How?” He spluttered out.

“Mrs. Beakley let me in,” She answered. “Um, Storkules said I could find you here.”

Donald sighed and shook his head. _Thanks a lot, Storkules._

Daisy cleared her throat. “Donald, would it… could we talk? Just one more time?”

Donald felt his cheeks heat even as his whole body went cold.

But he nodded.

“Boys, let’s go get ready for bed,” Della said, shepherding the triplets towards the mansion, though they all craned their heads over their shoulders to look at their uncle and Daisy.

Daisy took off her shoes, then went to sit beside Donald, dipping her feet in the water.

They were both silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Donald said, biting the bullet and speaking first. “For tonight.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Daisy said. “When the kids found me and told me to be looking for that number… I thought you had changed your mind. I didn’t know they were putting you on the spot like that.”

“They had good intentions, I’ll give them that,” Donald confessed. “And I think the idea was mostly Della’s.”

“Still,” Daisy said. “I’m sorry for my part.”

“You’re just as much a victim as I was,” Donald said. “So I’m sorry, too. For embarrassing you and hurting your feelings.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring at their feet in the pool water. Daisy kicked her foot out, splashing some, and then said,

“Can I… Look, I think I must have been misreading you. I thought that we had something going. So I’m sorry for that, too, if I made you uncomfortable.”

Donald sighed. “You didn’t, though.”

“Make you uncomfortable?”

“Misread me,” Donald corrected. “I do like you. A lot. And I would like to get to know you better.”

“So what’s the problem?” Daisy asked.

Donald took a deep breath, staring at the water before he started talking, “My life is a mess. Always has been, and always will be. I’ve got anger issues, I have trouble holding down jobs, and I’m terrible at most things. I’m a literal bad luck magnet. Ask anyone. And my voice is the most irritating sound in the world—even I can acknowledge that. I haven’t dated in years, because I’ve been raising my sister’s kids because I thought she was dead—do you know how hard it is to raise three kids on your own while grieving the loss of the person who has been your other half for your entire life? It sucks. And I haven’t really had any good relationships with other adults in all that time, either, and only have a few friends I keep in touch with. And I messed up my relationship with my uncle—the man who raised me and always had my back when it matters—because I unfairly blamed him for losing Della. We’re just now getting to a point where are working on fixing that relationship. And I’m trying to help Della transition and figure out a new parent dynamic with her and the boys, and…”

He put his head in his hands. “And, to be honest, all my past relationships failed miserably. And it was always my fault. My temper, my luck, my adventures that usually led to missing important things—if I even remembered them in the first place. A couple of people who dated me thinking that—as Scrooge McDuck’s ward—I had all the money in the world at my disposal and were upset when that wasn’t the case when I took them on dates that I could afford. Some who broke up with me when I told them I was bi, thinking I was going to cheat on them. Just… none of my relationships have ever ended on friendly terms. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that to happen again.

“So that’s why I didn’t accept your offer for a date, and why I left tonight. I’m sorry, Daisy. But dating me is the worst decision anyone could make, and not dating is probably the kindest thing I can do for someone.”

They were both silent for a long stretch of time. Then, Daisy put her hand over his.

“Thank you for telling me all that,” She said softly. “I know it wasn’t easy. Especially to someone you don’t know well. But, Donald? Why did you tell me all of this??

“Because…” Donald started, but then cut himself off.

Because she was easy to talk to.

Because he needed someone to know.

Because his soul was aching.

Because they needed closure.

Because she sought him out.

Because none of the other people he had ever been romantically interested in had sought him out.

“Because turning you down was the most painful thing I’ve ever done,” He said at last. “And I get hurt a lot. But I also know that doing so hurt you. So you deserved to know why. I’m sorry, Daisy.”

She was quiet again, then she said, “I know you told me all the reasons I shouldn’t date you. But my feelings are still the same. Because you listed all your faults, but you don’t know that some of those are your strengths.

“You work hard for everything. Nothing is handed to you. You love your family immensely. You’re a good uncle, a good nephew, and a good brother. You’re loyal to them. You know your anger is a problem and you don’t ignore it. You’re careful and cautious about who you trust, meaning you’re a good judge of character. It’s not your fault you haven’t had any good relationships—dating or friendship—with other adults. You’ve been raising three boys single-handily for eleven years. I grew up with a single mom, I know how hard it was for her. And that was just with me and my sister and a five year gap between us. Heck, I know what it’s like taking care of three babies at once because my sister also has triplets, but she had a husband and two grandmas and other aunts and uncles and friends to help out when they were babies. But I can’t even imagine what it is like to lose a sibling and handle that loss while taking care of three babies. You know what that says? It says that you’re strong. And brave—Strorkules was right about that. And that you’ve got a good, kind, loving heart. You may not see it, but I do. I want to get to know more of you. All of you. Everything. The good and the bad. And, for the record? I happen to like your voice.

“So, Donald Duck. Let me be upfront about this: I want to go out on a date with you. If it works between us, it works between us. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. But if it doesn’t, that shouldn’t be a reason for you to not date at all. Because you may be a mess, but you’re a fantastic person, too. I can’t be the only one who sees it. So. Will you go out with me?”

Donald twisted his hand so that he was holding hers. He smiled up at her.

“Yeah,” He said softly. “I’ll go out with you.”

Donald pulled his feet out of the water and stood up, holding out his hand for her to take. “I can’t make lattes. But I’ve got a coffee pot inside the houseboat, and it’s halfway decent with some milk and sugar. If you’d like some.”

Daisy smiled and accepted his hand. “That sounds delightful.”

*****

The suit jackets were hung up, dresses in the laundry, jewelry tucked into their boxes.

There was laughter and recounting of favorite moments of the night and of the past, smiling faces not ready to sleep just yet, not ready for the night to be over.

There were silent moments of musing, unable to sleep, to let the darkness take them, no matter how much it was desired, because they couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop wondering.

There was sitting at worn and scarred tables over cups of coffee in stained, chipped mugs, going cold as talk went late into the night.

The dishes were cleared, the tables cleaned, and the doors locked.

And all was quiet and peaceful—for once—in Duckburg.

Quiet and peaceful…

Except for the sound of fists pounding on wood, a voice with a Scottish brogue screaming, “LET ME OUT OF THIS INFERNAL CLOSET! DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD! FLINTHEART GLOMGOOOOLLLDDD!”


End file.
